


Learning to Swim

by Res



Series: I Love You [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-07-23
Updated: 2004-07-23
Packaged: 2017-10-20 22:04:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/217544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Res/pseuds/Res
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry doesn't want to take part in the traditional last swim of Hogwarts lake, at the end of 7th year. Ron finds out why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Learning to Swim

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: GoF
> 
> Disclaimer: Not mine. But if she ever wants to get rid of Ron, I'll take him! No profit made, please don't sue me -- All I got's a couple dogs that you wouldn't like much anyway.
> 
> Feedback: Please? This is my first HP fic....
> 
> Notes: Originally for the 'Harry and Ron go swimming' challenge, http://www.livejournal.com/community/harry_and_ron/47355.html . But I got laid off and missed the deadline. However! I am informed that it also meets the requirements for the 'Harry and/or Ron get ill/hurt' challenge, http://www.livejournal.com/community/harry_and_ron/55745.html . Yay! THANK YOU to lj user timberwolfoz for making me come do this, and for poking me everytime I got stuck.

"You sure you don't want to go, Harry?" Dean Thomas's voice was distracted and slightly muffled as he burrowed into the trunk at the foot of his bed, tossing clothing and school supplies randomly out of it. "Hah!" He stood up, triumphantly holding out a pair of teal green Muggle swimming trunks before turning to look at the black-haired boy reclining on his own bed at the other side of the room. "It's a tradition, you know -- Last swim in the lake, before you leave Hogwarts. All of us seventh years are going.... There's a bet on to see who can swim the farthest out before the squid chases us back to shore!" Dean sounded positively gleeful at the idea of being chased by the lake's giant squid.

Harry snorted, pushing his round, black-rimmed glasses back up his nose as he peered over the edge of his book at the dark-skinned boy who was now changing into the teal swimming trunks. Emerald green eyes perused the dark form, brightening in appreciation of the fit body and the nice contrast of dark skin and teal cloth. "No, Dean....Doesn't interest me." Harry looked back at his book, _**Quidditch from the Pros, Tips from Pitches Around the World**_ , adding distractedly, "I might come down a little later...," as he resumed his reading.

"Right, then." The dark boy shrugged and, grabbing a brightly coloured beach towel from the end of his bed, darted out the door. Halfway down the stairs to the common room of Gryffindor tower, Dean was stopped by another seventh year, who was on his way up.

"Seen Harry, Dean?" the red-haired boy asked, grinning as he took in the green trunks and bright towel. "Is he going swimming with us?"

"Nah, Ron," Dean answered, grimacing. "Says he's not up for it. He's having a lie in on his bed, nose in that new book of his. Said he might be along later, though."

Ron Weasley nodded, and continued up the stairs to the seventh year boys' dorm, at the very top of Gryffindor tower. Stepping through the door, he squinted slightly as the honey-gold sunlight met his eyes, bright after the darkness of the windowless stairwell. Scanning the five beds, his eyes came to rest on the one at the far end of the dormitory, next to his own haphazardly made bed. The scarlet curtains of the four-poster were pulled back and neatly bound with golden cords, the crimson spread carefully put into place, with nary a wrinkle to mar its tight corners, save where Harry was sprawled across its surface. Even so, the slender body made the barest dent in the coverlets, and Ron knew that as soon as Harry got up, the wrinkles would be easily brushed away, leaving the bed pristinely made. Sometimes, he thought, he really envied Harry Potter's skills; and, sometimes, he just thought Harry Potter was positively barking.

Harry's attention was focused firmly on his book, though Ron could tell he was aware of Ron's presence in the room, and had been since Ron entered. A tiny finger wave told him Harry wasn't quite as involved in his book as he might appear, and Ron crossed the room to sit gingerly on the edge of Harry's bed, pulling his feet up and leaning back against a post at the foot. He waited patiently as Harry finished his page and marked his place with a finger, looking up, before speaking. "Hey, Harry."

"Hey, Ron."

Ron nodded at the book, quirking an auburn brow. "Any good, then?"

"Yeah, a bit. Got some brilliant anecdotes to go with the tips, and some really great suggestions for getting the most out of your broom in various kinds of bad weather...." Harry paused, lifting an eyebrow of his own. "You want to borrow it when I'm done?"

Ron smiled. "Yeah, could I?" He shifted slightly, scratching his back against the bedpost behind him as Harry nodded.

They sat in companionable silence for a few moments before Harry opened up his book and started to read again. Ron watched, then broached, hesitantly, "You not coming swimming, then? With the rest of us?"

Harry froze, then closed his book again, one finger trapped inside the pages to mark his place before he looked up, green eyes meeting dark hazel briefly before falling to study the brocade of the coverlet beneath them. "No."

Ron waited for a moment, then -- "Why not, mate? Everyone else'll be there. Really say goodbye to the old place. C'mon." His voice was softly coaxing, teasing, the gentle baritone of it humming softly in the empty room around them. "It'll be fun, mate."

Harry shook his head, looking away. "I'll come down later."

Ron sat up and leaned forward, concern on his freckled face. "Why not, Harry? I thought sure you'd be the first one down there, today." He paused, then offered, "I've got an extra pair of trunks you can borrow, if you don't have any...?"

Harry half-smiled, looking up at his friend. "Thanks, Ron, but...no thanks. I just don't want to go swimming today." His voice cracked slightly, and he flushed, swallowing. Pushing himself upright, Harry reached for a leather bookmark sitting on the bedside table, slipping it between the pages of his book, and then setting the book aside. Leaning back against his headboard, Harry pulled his knees up and braced his heels comfortably on the bed. "Shouldn't you be headed down there, yourself, mate? Don't want you to get left out, if you're so keen on going." He crossed his arms loosely across his chest, and looked out the window in the direction of the lake, though Ron knew he could not see it at this angle.

Ron frowned, considering his friend's new position, then dropped the frown for a bemused grin when Harry looked back at him, a carefully casual smile on his own face. "Nah, mate, I'll get wet soon enough. Right now, I'd rather sit here and talk to you -- not like I'm gonna have the chance to do _that_ for a while, yet, either, what with you and Lupin taking that trip to the Colonies next week for Dumbledore, and me and Dad going to Romania to see Charlie and his crew, soon's I step off the train at King's Cross." He shifted, toeing off his shoes and straightening out his legs in front of him on the bed. Gently, he thrust one sock-covered toe against Harry's hip, grinning at him and winking as he continued, "After that, though --"

Harry grinned back at him, one hand falling to lightly grasp the poking toe, fingers curling around to tickle lightly at the sensitive arch of Ron's foot. "Yeah, after that, you'll be stuck with me. At least until the lease runs out on the flat. Or we kill each other." His fingers dug sharply into the ticklish arch of Ron's foot, making Ron shout and jerk his foot back, laughing.

"Here, now! None of that!" Ron tucked his feet under himself, using the maneuver to get a foot or so closer to Harry. Casually, he rested his hands on the coverlet between them, palms down, and leaned on them slightly as he tipped his head forward conspiratorially. "Have you heard what Hermione is going to be doing?" One red eyebrow arched playfully over a twinkling, dark hazel eye, keeping Harry's eyes on his face as one hand slid slightly closer to the tender, exposed ankle resting just a few inches away.

"No...," Harry tipped his head sideways, absently shoving his glasses back up on his nose as the motion caused the headboard to bump the earpieces and push them out of place. "Last I'd heard, she didn't have a place to go to, yet. They were waiting on --"

Eagerly, Ron leaned forward a bit more, interrupting. "She's going to Bulgaria!" He grinned, wickedly, and waggled his eyebrows at Harry. "She's going to go see Krum, and she and he are to head from there to France, I've heard. Wonder what they are going to be doing there...?" His tone was innocent, and he looked upward with an expression of piety as Harry laughed.

"Oh, you git, Ron. Hermione is just -- AAAAAAH!" Ron's creeping hand had darted out and grabbed Harry round the ankle, dragging him out flat on the bed as Ron pounced, jabbing fingers into quivering ribs.

"Got you!" Ron laughed, jabbing and poking for several moments in a flurry of flying robes and elbows, before throwing himself backward into the dubious safety of his own bed, leaving Harry gasping and writhing helplessly with laughter.

"No...fair!" Harry panted, face flushed. "Cheat!" Taking a gulp of air, Harry forced himself upright and back against the headboard, holding his ribs and choking back residual giggles. "What was that for?"

Ron carefully eased back onto Harry's bed when he felt the danger of retaliation was over, shoving Harry sideways as he scooted in next to him against the headboard. "You looked like you needed a laugh, mate. I had to oblige -- what are best friends for, then?" He grinned, then sobered. "Seriously, though, Harry...Why don't you want to go swimming?"

He felt Harry go absolutely still beside him, and canted a look sideways at him. Harry's profile was shadowed by the light pouring in through the window on the other side of the bed, partially masking his expression, but Ron could see enough as Harry's dark brows drew down and in, and he grimaced faintly, finally letting out a sigh. "I just...I don't like to swim."

Ron twisted to lean a shoulder against the headboard, turning to face his friend. Harry fidgeted, plucking restlessly at a crease in his robe as he avoided Ron's eyes. Ron waited, just watching, patiently letting Harry work through it himself, no pressure. Green eyes flicked up to meet his, then focused on the pale fingers still fussing with the lay of black cloth. Harry sighed again, and rolled a shoulder up, almost defensively. "I...."

Ron pulled back slightly, giving his friend a little room. "Harry, you do know _how_ to swim, right? I mean -- you swam when you saved me in the tournament three years ago, didn't you?" His memory of the time in question was, admittedly, foggy, as he'd been heavily spelled at the time, both to protect him from danger underwater, and to keep him from helping Harry complete the second Task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Ron paused, thinking quickly and suddenly realizing that, despite remembering several times that Harry had accompanied him, and his family occasionally, to a lake or river, Ron could not remember once seeing Harry go more than knee-deep into water of any sort. Even the time Ron snuck him into the Gryffindor Prefects' bathroom, in celebration of a particularly spectacular (and muddy) Quidditch win, Harry had stayed quite firmly in the shallowest part of the deep bath, claiming exhaustion and draping himself limply across the edge of the pool.

Harry was silent, only his fingers moving as they picked almost feverishly at the fold in his robes.

"But...if -- if you can't -- How did you save me, that time, if you can't swim, mate!?" Ron's face showed his shock as he scrambled upright, crossing his legs and settling close by Harry's hip. "Dumbledore said we'd be fathoms down -- and you -- we were in the water when I woke up. I thought --"

"Gillyweed," Harry interrupted him, face scrunching up in a look that Ron might almost have thought was anger if Harry hadn't suddenly pulled both knees up against his chest and looked away, out the window again. "I ate gillyweed, remember?"

"I -- well -- Yes. I remember. It made it so you could breathe under the water. And you said your hands and feet got all webbed out, like. But --?" Ron's confusion was clear.

"Flail around enough with webbed feet, Ron, and you'd swim too." Harry's voice was harsh. "And I had to find you, mate. I thought -- I thought you were going to die if I didn't find you. I...I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't _bear_ it if I'd lost you...I'd have done _anything_." Harry tightened his grip around his knees, rocking slightly as he shifted to look at Ron, at the same time ducking his head to press his ear against the dark fabric covering his legs. "I would do anything...." He took a deep breath. "But it wore off."

Ron frowned slightly. "Well, naturally...or you'd still have gills, mate." He tentatively rested a hand on Harry's back, his touch light and hesitant, reluctant to invade Harry's space but unable to resist attempting to comfort his distressed friend.

"No, Ron, you don't understand --" Harry pressed his forehead into his kneecaps, hiding his face in his dark school robes. "The gillyweed _wore off._ It stopped working, Ron. _Before I'd reached the surface."_ Harry's breath caught, shuddered, and escaped in a rush of words. "I was pulling you up, the water was all dark, and cold, and I couldn't use my hands -- I was holding on to you and to Gabrielle -- and the merpeople were following me up, up, watching me with their eyes -- I didn't know, I thought -- Are they going to try to drag me back down? I'd taken you both, you see, but -- the time was almost up. I couldn't just leave the girl behind. The song, it'd said -- and the water seemed to go on forever...." Harry shivered, pressing his face harder into the dark robes covering his knees. "So dark, so cold...."

Ron was frozen, speechless, his eyes growing wider and wider as Harry's voice shuddered and shivered through the recitation. His hands tightened on the bedcovers, pulling great knots of cloth up out of Harry's carefully made bed. "Harry...," he whispered, horrified. "I'd...I didn't know...!"

Harry didn't seem to hear him, lost in the memory. "I could feel it, you know...feel the change happening. I was still so far down...the water was getting so wet in my mouth, but there was still no light above me. I tried...I tried _so hard_ to hurry, to swim faster...but my legs...." He shuddered, whimpered, his fists tightening in the cloth around his legs, then loosening, tightening and loosening, almost as if he were trying to massage away the painful cramps that had deadened his legs as he'd fought his way to the surface. "...and you were so...so heavy. The water, it started to go into my lungs, I could feel them filling, making it harder to breathe -- I was getting so _dizzy!_ But I couldn't stop, I didn't dare stop -- I had to get you to the surface, before the time ran out...!"

"Harry!" Ron couldn't take it anymore -- he reached out and grabbed Harry by the shoulder, shaking him. "Harry, stop, please --!" he choked. "Please, stop."

Harry seemed to ignore him for a moment, clutching at his knees and rocking slightly in the bed as he shuddered, gasping softly, as if feeling the water filling his lungs again. Gradually, the dark-haired boy calmed, leaning almost imperceptibly into the hand grasping his shoulder. Softly, the clear tenor voice continued in a detached manner, "I'd known how to swim, kind of, before that -- just a bit. Enough to make it across the primary pool at the school when the Dursleys had to take me with, and Uncle Vernon would throw me in," he choked out a sour laugh, "Couldn't look odd, mind, coming to the pool and not going swimming." Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Harry raised his head, crossing his arms against his knees and resting his chin on them. "'Course, since the tournament...," he shivered and went silent.

"...you've never gone into the water again," Ron finished for him, softly. "Oh, Harry, mate...." Ron's voice drifted off, helplessly. He wanted, desperately, to comfort his friend, to relieve him of the horrible memories, but -- he didn't know how.

They sat silently together for several moments, Ron's fingers absently kneading Harry's shoulder, lending comfort with their gentle touch. Finally, Harry sighed, the tension in his arms relaxing, and he leaned a little harder into Ron's massaging fingers. "I've never really gone into the water since, no." He was silent, then turned to quirk a weak smile at Ron, "I don't much like swimming, you know? Never did, even before...wasn't very good at it." He snorted. "You should have heard everyone laughing at me, before I made it under the water, at the tournament. Waded into the water with all my robes on, I was so worried about finding you -- Krum showed up in a pair of trunks, did you know?" Harry flashed a glance at Ron, looking away before he made eye contact, and sat up, leaning against the headboard again. "Not me, dove right in, wearing everything. You'd've thought I was raving, Ron, I'm sure. Everyone else did." Harry still refused to meet Ron's eyes, and his voice shook slightly, even as he tried to force a nonchalant tone.

"Harry...," Ron began, hesitantly, ducking his head forward and down to try and meet Harry's eyes, "Harry, does anyone else know you can't swim? Have you told _anybody,_ at all?"

Harry shook his head and turned away from Ron's searching gaze, flushing slightly.

Ron sighed, his grip tightening briefly on Harry's shoulder. "Oh, Harry." He shook his head. "Harry, you've got to learn to ask for help, mate. How's anyone to know you need help, if you don't ask? Honestly." For a moment, he sounded so like their friend Hermione, Harry almost smiled.

"I hadn't realized it was so important," he returned, with forced lightness. "My swimming, I mean." Taking a breath, he turned and faced Ron, meeting the hazel gaze firmly.

Ron smiled, and squeezed Harry's shoulder again, almost hiding his worry and concern in time. "Harry, mate...," he paused and swallowed before continuing, his words nearly tripping over themselves as they poured out of him, "... _anything_ that makes you...makes you feel so..." Ron stuttered to a halt, face flaming scarlet as he found himself unable to meet Harry's wondering gaze.

After a moment, Harry looked away, relieving Ron of the weight of his attention. He snorted softly, and half grinned, slanting a look back at Ron. "Do you remember what you said? When you first woke up, in the water?" Harry almost looked amused, if you discounted the lines of tension around his eyes, and the slight quaver to his voice.

Ron shook his head, both hands on Harry's arm, gripping so tightly his knuckles were yellowing. "No...not really."

"You said," Harry tried a laugh, failed, and continued anyway. "You said 'Wet, isn't it?'" He looked away from Ron's dark eyes. "All I could think was -- _He's alive. Oh, thank Merlin, I_ did _it, he's alive and we made it._ And there you were, complaining that it was wet." Harry laughed again, a little more successfully this time. "And then you started calling me a prat, and telling me that Dumbledore would never have let anything bad happen to you, or Gabrielle, and that the line in the song about losing you forever was...."

"...just to make sure you finished the task inside the time limit," Ron finished, face pale. "I remember that part."

"I felt like an idiot."

"Ah, Harry...I'm sorry. I never realized...." Ron shifted on the bed, easing a little closer to Harry, close enough to drape an arm over the other boy's shoulders. "I'm sorry, Harry. I was the idiot. I didn't know you couldn't swim, and...and I didn't know I was that _important_ to you. I had no idea...I just thought...." Ron stopped himself, abruptly, flushing. "Anyway, I was the idiot, Harry, not you. I'm sorry."

Harry's shoulders, which had gone tense when Ron draped his arm across them, seemed to, very gradually, soften and relax, and he leaned into Ron's weight slightly, releasing a soft sigh. They sat like that for several moments, each lost in his thoughts, watching the sun slide slowly across the last foot of floor until it just touched the end of Harry's bed with golden dusted fingers of warmth.

Finally, hesitantly, Ron turned his head, looking at Harry. "Harry...," he ventured, softly, his naturally deep voice even deeper than usual and slightly rough. Harry could feel it vibrating through Ron's chest and into his own where he was leaning against the red-head; it felt nicely soothing, after the ragged emotional highs they had just been through. "Would...would you like me to teach you how to swim?"

Harry stared blankly for several seconds, eyes fixed on Ron's in mild amazement. "I...," he faltered, finally.

Ron waited. And waited. Then he began to smile as Harry continued to stare at him, speechless. "Come on, mate," he pulled at Harry's shoulder as he slipped off the bed and headed for his trunk, "Here, you can wear a pair of my trunks. Have you got a towel, or do we need to stop by the Prefects' bathroom to get one?" He dug into his trunk, not waiting for an answer from Harry, and hauled out two pairs of shorts -- one an obvious pair of swim trunks in a faded maroon, and one pair of Muggle-style jeans, raggedly cut off mid-thigh. He tossed the maroon swim trunks at Harry. "These should fit you, mate."

Harry gaped at him, then, still not saying a word, slowly pulled his robe over his head and tossed it across his bed, beginning to strip down. Ron watched for a moment, grinning, before quickly yanking off his own clothing and squirming into the tight cutoffs. He dug into his trunk again to find his own towel, and pulled it out to drape it over his shoulder before turning to check on Harry.

The maroon swim trunks were obviously not in the best taste for Harry, Ron thought, but would definitely do the trick for today -- especially if he tightened the waist cord a bit. Stepping forward, Ron did just that, tucking his fingers into the waist band and pulling out the cord before snugging it up tight and tying a knot to hold it. "There you go. Now they won't fall off in the water...." He tried, very hard, not to notice how the backs of his fingers seemed to keep the warmth of Harry's skin with them as he pulled away, nor to see how Harry's cheeks flushed faintly.

"Thanks," Harry murmured, looking bemused and suddenly becoming very interested in making sure his clothes were folded just so on the bed.

Ron watched him for a moment, face uncharacteristically sober, changing quickly to a bright grin as Harry turned back toward him. "Well, come on, then," Ron said, beginning to move toward the door. "Let's get you that towel, shall we?, and get down to the lake. If we hurry, we can catch afternoon tea afterwards."

***

Harry followed him, a vaguely bemused expression on his face as he trailed after his red-headed friend, eyes on the strong, freckled shoulders, one half hidden under a threadbare towel of dubious shade, and very carefully _not_ on the faded and worn pockets of the cutoff jeans. He wasn't quite certain how he'd ended up agreeing to swimming lessons, but....

After a quick stop at the Prefects' Bath to pick up a huge, fluffy towel for Harry, Ron led the way out of Hogwarts and down to the lakeshore. They both smiled to see their friends playing the water, and laughed as they caught sight of Dean trying desperately to swim to shore with amazingly little success...until he was suddenly lifted right out of the water and gently tossed several yards by a large, gray tentacle. "Looks like the squid wins that bet," Harry commented, as they continued on past.

Ron chuckled, "Yeah," and led the way toward a small path into the trees at the edge of the lake. "Let's go this way...there's a bit of a private beach over here. Provided no one's using it, we should be pretty much out of everyone's way...." He shoved aside a few branches and picked his way carefully down the path, cursing softly as he put his foot down on a bramble vine. He hopped a step or two, then limped onward. "Careful, ground's a bit rough...."

Harry followed after, stepping carefully over and around the various bits of vegetation and forest debris that covered the path, rough to his bare feet but not as bad as he'd expected. The nooning sun shown straight down on them through the trees, warm on his back, and he could feel sweat beginning to prickle on his neck and shoulders, even in the dappled shadows of the woods. It felt good, and he took a deep breath, enjoying the green smells that filled the forest, overlaid by the faintly brackish scent of the lake water not 20 metres away, lapping quietly against the shoreline.

Finally, the two of them broke from the woods in to a small, sandy clearing, right at the edge of the water. Peering out into the lake, Harry could see by the pale color of the water that the sand stretched a good way out, the occasional dark spot showing him where large boulders dotted the underwater landscape. Ron dropped his towel well back from the water, and turned to watch Harry as he stepped out onto the sand. Harry squinted as the sunlight reflected off the water, stabbing him sharply in the eyes, and looked quizzically at Ron, head tipping in a silent question as he dropped his own towel on the coarse sand, next to Ron's, taking off his glasses and dropping them carefully on top.

Bright copper eyebrows turned golden in the sunlight as they rose, giving Ron's face an innocent look. "Hagrid," he said, answering the unspoken question. "We were chasing down one of the quintaped cubs the Ministry sent to him -- you remember? Before Christmas. One of that lot they recovered from that black market beast dealer...?"

Harry nodded, grimacing. "I remember." Three quintaped cubs had been recovered in a Ministry raid and, somehow (Harry still hadn't figured out quite how), Hagrid had been given care of them for the month or so it took to get them sent back to the Isle of Drear. As the cubs had been quite young and, supposedly, harmless at the time, Hagrid had thought they would make a grand lesson for his seventh year students. Unfortunately, one of the dangers of the low-slung creature was that it was a carnivore that had a particular fondness for human flesh -- Hagrid had forgotten to mention that bit of trivia to the students when he introduced them to the creatures, and before anyone knew what had happened, one of the cubs had viciously bitten Seamus, the students had scattered, screaming, and all the cubs had gotten loose. Harry and Hermione had cornered one of them and managed to capture it with a body-bind curse while Neville and Dean had snagged a second -- Neville had fallen on it, managing, amazingly enough, not to get bitten, and Dean had hit both it and Neville with a stunning curse. (It had taken another three hours to wake Neville up, after that -- Dean had been a little nervous when he'd thrown the spell and had added a bit too much emphasis to it, it turned out.)

Ron and Hagrid had taken off after the third one, returning with it some minutes later, out of breath and covered in mud. Seamus was sent to Madam Pomfrey and the lesson had been ended with extra reading instead of more hands-on time, much to the relief of the students remaining.

"...yeah, anyway, it led us a merry chase, down that path," Ron pointed behind Harry at the path they'd just come from, "And over there, into the brush. There's a bit of a bog, that way." His freckled arm swung around and pointed further down the lakeshore. "It bogged up there, and Hagrid was able to catch it. But I noticed this beach, and...well..." Suddenly, Ron's fair skin flushed scarlet, and he cleared his throat, ducking his head a moment before flicking a look up to meet Harry's eyes. "Yeah, well, I remembered it. Seems pretty private...." Ron deliberately stepped away and towards the water, taking a deep breath. "So."

Harry watched as Ron waded into the shallows, moving firmly against the push of the water until he was waist deep, then diving in and swimming a few strokes before turning and standing up again, the water lapping at his chin. "Come on in, Harry. Water's a bit chill...," Ron began stroking back towards shore, gradually rising out of the water as he came, "...but only what you'd expect. Gotta remember this is a tarn lake -- it's filled with glacier runoff, so it's bound to be a bit cold most of the time." Ron stopped when he was waist deep again, and waited. Harry's eyes followed slender silver trails of water as they rolled down the pale, freckled skin, focusing on a thick drop sliding down Ron's long throat, over one strong collar bone and slipping down over a muscular chest, just missing a darkly pink pebbled nipple, drawn tight in the chill.

He swallowed and dragged his eyes away, looking down the blurry shoreline nervously, wrapping his arms around himself and hugging tightly.

Taking the hesitation to be fear of the water, Ron eased a few steps forward, until the water was lapping around his hips and thighs, and held out a hand. "Come on, Harry...I promise, we'll go slow." He took another step forward and smiled gently. "Can't learn to swim if you aren't in the water, mate."

Harry half smiled at that and shrugged, loosening his grip on himself as he took a deep breath and moved toward the water. Reaching the edge, he hesitated for a bare moment, then looked up into Ron's mossy dark eyes, noting the confidence and concern there. Hesitantly, Harry reached out, accepting Ron's hand as he put one foot, and then the other into the water before stopping, cold water lapping around his ankles. Ron's grip was warm and sure in his hand, lending support, steadying him as he took another deep breath.

A gentle squeeze and a light tug coaxed Harry another step into the chill water, and Ron's bright smile won a few more after that. Soon, Harry was standing in water up to his thighs, the bottom edges of the worn maroon trunks clinging wetly to his legs in the waves. They paused there for several moments, Ron's grip never wavering as he waited for Harry to get comfortable. Finally, softly, he asked, "Ok, Harry?", concern lacing his deep voice and warming Harry from the inside out.

After a moment, Harry nodded, jerkily, and forced himself to take another step, then another, moving deeper into the icy water. He could feel the cold fingers of each little wavelet slapping at his thighs, crawling up his legs and tugging at the trunks he wore, clinging icily to his body and sucking at him, pulling him deeper into the dark depths of the --

He froze, waist deep in the water, panting. He couldn't breathe. _He couldn't breathe!_ Harry gasped, then gasped again, lungs working franticly as his vision started to dim. He felt a strong numbing tingle thrum up from his fingers and toes as he panted after air that would not come, the tingle slowly vibrating its way up to his wrists and ankles, climbing towards elbows and knees, until he could barely feel his extremities. He whimpered, yanking his hands out of the water and trying to wrap them around his throat, expecting to feel long slits forming there, anticipating the pain that should be coming. One hand seemed to be trapped, something holding it tightly, restraining him as he tried to pull away. He fought, frantic, tearing his hand free and clapping it to his throat as his vision dimmed further, a white and grey ring tightening in on him, blinding him. He could feel the ice of the lake sliding into his body, tearing through his skin and stabbing into his bones, sending violent shudders through his body as the waves pulled him deeper into the frozen lake.

Suddenly, warmth wrapped itself around him. Warmth covered his back, snaking around his chest and belly, draped itself over his shoulder and murmured into his ear, sending warm vibrations sliding into his chest. Strong, soft, warm bands tightened around him, holding him back from the lake, pressing heat into his shaking body. Warmth rubbed at his chest soothingly, holding him tightly as it whispered into his shoulder, nuzzled into his hands where they were pressed into his neck, the warm, soft bands around him pulling him into a gentle, soothing, rocking motion. Gradually, the warm vibrations sliding through him began to make sense, and Harry managed a deep breath that actually seemed to fill his lungs. The warmth surrounding him murmured a gentle approval, "That's it...breathe slowly...," and tightened itself in a brief hug around his body, pressing itself more tightly against his back as he sighed. Gradually, the murmuring against his neck became more words, gentle, reassuring words..., "Breathe slowly, Harry...that's it...I've got you. Sshhhh. You're all right...you're ok, Harry...I've got you. Ssshhh. It's ok. You're safe...breathe, Harry...breathe slowly...," and Harry relaxed enough to let his hands fall away from his neck, with a deep, shuddering sigh. The warmth shifted slightly, accepting his arms into its embrace. After a moment, the heat slowly slid around to press itself to his front, tightening strong arms around Harry's shaking body as Ron pulled Harry tightly against his chest, resuming the gentle rocking and murmuring, burying his nose into Harry's dark hair with a soft sigh of his own. "It's all right, Harry...sssshhhh. I've got you. You're safe...."

Harry closed his eyes and pressed his face into the warm chest in front of him, his arms coming up to wrap around Ron's waist with urgent strength, holding desperately tight as they rocked.

***

They stayed that way for several minutes, Ron's deep voice murmuring softly, repeating, over and over the same reassurances, arms tight around Harry as he soothed, hands rubbing gently along Harry's back. Gradually, he could feel Harry relax, though he was pretty sure he'd have bruises along his ribs and maybe a couple on his hips where Harry'd hung on so tightly; so tightly Ron had barely been able to breathe himself. He nuzzled into Harry's hair again, rubbing his cheek along the top of Harry's head in a gentle caress. "I've got you, Harry," he murmured. "I've got you...."

Briefly, he tightened his arms around his friend again, giving him a gentle squeeze as he rocked. The water was getting chilly, despite the bright sun shining down on them; Ron knew he would have to get Harry out of the water soon, if they didn't start moving again, or they both could become dangerously chilled.

He felt Harry sigh again and the dark head turned, changing position on his chest so that Harry's face was no longer hidden against the crook of Ron's throat. At the same time, Harry took a half step forward, straightening slightly and moving his body closer, his arms relaxing their desperate grip and sliding into a true hug as he snuggled into Ron's arms with another, deeper, sigh.

"All right, there, Harry?" Ron murmured, pulling his head back slightly to peer down at the slightly shorter boy.

Harry nodded, then took a deep breath and started to pull back, turning to look up at Ron as he did so.

"You're still shaking, mate...," Ron kept his arms tight around Harry, holding him close, and causing Harry to bump noses with him as Harry looked upward. Emerald eyes locked with moss-hazel, and Ron felt the air in his lungs vanish, leaving him breathless. Awkwardly, hesitantly, he leaned forward and was somehow not surprised to feel Harry reach up to meet him, soft lips brushing against his own as Harry's hands dragged up his ribs and closed on his shoulders, fingers digging into the muscles there. Ron's own arms tightened briefly around Harry, and he smiled into the kiss, closing his eyes the better to _feel._

***

Soft, smooth, just a bit wet and oh-so-warm. Harry murmured softly and pressed into the kiss, feeling Ron's lips curve against his mouth, feeling the shock of warmth spreading in a honey-sweet wave down and through his body, driving the chill away. Ron's arms tightened around him, pressing the breath from him in a delightful sigh, holding him secure, safe, warm in the water.

***

After a moment they drew apart, sucking in deep startled breaths, still clutching at each other. Harry had stopped shaking, but now Ron was trembling, hands unsteady as they rubbed absently along Harry's back and up to his shoulders, then down again to grip Harry's hips through the old trunks. Imploring look met seeking gaze and their lips met a second time, parted this time as Ron, acting on pure instinct, tilted his head slightly. They clung together, pressing steadily, tenderly against each other as each tasted the other, tongues flicking shyly along lips and mouths sucking gently as quiet moans rumbled deep in trembling chests.

Finally, Ron pulled away with a groan, throwing back his head to gasp for breath, then clinging tightly to Harry as he panted. "God, Harry, mate...we can't do this. I can't...." There was pain in his tone, and Harry pulled back from him, almost violently, his eyes wide and frantic.

"I'm sorry, I'm -- Ron, I didn't mean -- I...." Harry tried to pull away, but Ron held on, stumbling slightly in the water.

"No, Harry...," Ron half-smiled, clinging to the trembling black-haired boy and leaning on Harry as he tried to shift his feet. "We can't do this here...Harry, mate...I can't feel my legs. This water is like ice!"

Harry stared at him for a moment, clearly shocked, and then choked back a laugh. "Oh, Ron...I -- here, mate, lean on me. Can you feel your feet, at all?" Harry moved up to take Ron's arm across his shoulder, steadying the red-head as Ron tried to shuffle his feet forward through the frigid water.

"Yeah," Ron gave a pained grimace, then took another step, shaking his feet in the water. "Yeah, that's got it...just had to get the blood flowing a bit. I completely lost track, there...I'd meant to get us out of the water a bit sooner, if we were just gonna be -- uh..." Ron flushed scarlet, his ears flaming with heat. "I mean...."

Harry smiled, leaning into Ron's side as they climbed out of the water, then turned and stopped his friend, standing in front of him. Ron looked at him with surprised bemusement, then flushed even redder as Harry reached up and cupped his face gently, drawing him down for another soft kiss.

Letting Ron go, Harry sighed deeply, then smiled. "I meant it...did you?" He looked earnestly up into Ron's mossy dark eyes.

Ron looked horrified. "Of course, I meant it! Harry, I would never --!" He stumbled to a halt, aghast. "Never --!" Taking a step forward, Ron wrapped his arms around Harry again, holding him tightly. "And if I thought we'd be able to get a spot of privacy anywhere where we wouldn't get sand up our bums, or freeze our assets off, I'd prove it to you!" He drew back, looking down at Harry and smiled. "As it is, I think we are going to have to wait until I get back from Romania....I mean...if you...?" Suddenly, hesitation flooded Ron's heart. "Do you...want...? I mean...," he broke off, looking at Harry intently.

"I do. When you get back from Romania, then." Harry grinned up at him, then looked over at the towels. "But...that doesn't mean we can't kiss some more, does it?" He grinned up at Ron with a playful glint in his eye, and deliberately pulled back a step, then another, leading Ron toward the towels. "Here? On this nice...warm...sunny...PRIVATE....?"

***

The Great Hall was packed, everyone eating and chattering, exchanging information and talking about summer holidays at this, the last dinner before break. In the morning, they would all have a rushed breakfast, and then it was off to the Hogwarts Express for a train ride back to London, and off into the Real World.

Hermione looked up from her shepherd's pie as they slipped into the seats opposite from her. "Where have you two been all afternoon? You missed tea."

Ron turned brilliant scarlet and looked at Harry. Harry coughed, and then, looking at Ron, said, softly, "Ron was giving me swimming lessons."

End


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